


A Man More Sinned Against

by noydb666 (Elynittria)



Series: Shakespeare trilogy [1]
Category: Red Dwarf
Genre: Angst, Episode Related, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-12-16
Updated: 2004-12-16
Packaged: 2017-10-05 03:31:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,606
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/37343
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elynittria/pseuds/noydb666
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rimmer's past comes back to haunt him during his trial on Justice World.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Man More Sinned Against

**Author's Note:**

> This story was originally posted to the Red Dwarf Slash Society on Yahoo and was inspired by Tronella's "Worth It," also originally posted to the RDSS.

Kryten entered Rimmer's cell on Justice World with a pleased look on his face. "Good news," he said. "The Justice Computer has sanctioned a retrial. I think we have a very strong case."

"You do?" Rimmer said doubtfully. Nothing ever went right for him, so he didn't hold out much hope that Kryten could get him out of this predicament. Lister, seated beside him, looked more optimistic.

"It's a question of differentiating between guilt and culpability, sir," Kryten replied. "What the mind probe detected was your own sense of guilt about the accident. In a way, you tried and convicted yourself. I simply have to establish you're a neurotic, underachieving emotional retard whose ambition far outstrips his miniscule abilities and who consequently blames himself for an accident for which he could not possibly have been responsible."

Rimmer didn't know whether to feel outraged or encouraged. "You're going to try to prove that I was innocent of negligence on the grounds that I'm a half-witted incompetent?"

The Cat flashed his grin. "Man, there ain't a jury in the land that won't buy a plea like that."

Kryten attempted to put a better spin on his proposed defense. "Not a half-wit, exactly—more a buffoon."

Slightly mollified, Rimmer pondered the possibilities of success. "Right, I see. But how would you even begin to build such a case? Where would you conjure up the evidence?"

"Sir, providing I can have completely free access to your personal data files, I think I can come up with the outline of a winning case by lunchtime," Kryten replied.

"Permission granted," Rimmer said. He was still convinced that he was doomed, but felt grateful that Kryten was willing to try to defend him.

* * *

After a few hours of research on board _Red Dwarf_, Kryten returned to Justice World and sought out Lister for a consultation regarding Rimmer's case. "Sir," Kryten began, "I have discovered exculpatory evidence regarding Mr. Rimmer's involvement with the drive plate."

"You what?" Lister asked in amazement.

"He is indeed innocent. However, I fear that Mr. Rimmer would be upset and embarrassed if all the facts in the case came to light. I truly don't know what to do next. I might not be doing him a favor by defending him." Kryten felt torn by the knowledge he had gained in his research and his assessment of Rimmer's possible reaction to that truth being revealed in front of his crewmates.

"Why? What did ya find out?" Lister asked, intrigued.

"I'd rather not say, sir. The information was gained via access to confidential records that I don't feel should be revealed anywhere other than in court."

"Well, how bad can the truth be?" Lister reasoned. "I mean, it's got to be better than Rimmer blaming himself for killing the whole crew, which is what's obviously been going on in that twisted mind of his. I think he'd want to know that it wasn't really his fault. So I'd say go for it, Krytes. Let's get Rimmer out of this mess and worry later about whether he's embarrassed about how you did it."

Kryten accepted Lister's judgment. After all, Mr. Lister was human and knew more about the ins and outs of human emotions than he did.

* * *

Rimmer stood stiffly at attention in the dock in his dark green dress uniform. He was nervous, but trying not to let it show. His twitching nostrils and leg, however, betrayed his anxiety to anyone who knew him like Lister did. Lister smiled to himself, knowing that Kryten had proof of Rimmer's innocence and trusting that he would be able to laugh at Rimmer about this cock-up soon. He looked forward to teasing Rimmer about his brush with the law.

Kryten stood up and addressed the unseen court—the computer mainframe of Justice World. "The mind probe was created to detect guilt, yet in the case of Arnold Judas Rimmer, the guilt it detected attaches to no crime. He held a position of little or no authority on _Red Dwarf_. He was a lowly grease-monkey, a nothing, a piece of sputum floating in the toilet bowl of life."

Kryten paused a moment. Rimmer swallowed nervously, unsure what to make of this opening statement. Did Kryten really think that about him? _Of course he does,_ an inner voice whispered to him. _It's true, isn't it?_ Rimmer tried to ignore the voice and concentrate on the proceedings. Kryten was calling Lister as his first witness and establishing who he was. Then came a question whose answer Rimmer had often wondered about: "Would you describe the accused as a friend?"

After a brief interruption by the Cat and a reminder that he must tell the truth because he was under polygraphic surveillance, Lister supplied his answer: "No, I would describe the accused as a git."

The words stabbed Rimmer's heart. He knew he should have expected the answer, but he had allowed himself to hope that after all these years Lister might actually look upon him as a friend. He didn't allow his distress to show on his face, however—he had a lot of practice in dealing with rejection. He merely glared at Lister as Lister continued his testimony establishing that Z Shift was the bottom of the hierarchy on _Red Dwarf_.

After Lister's testimony, Kryten resumed his argument. "My client was an incompetent vending machine repairman, yet he could never come to terms with a lifetime of underachievement. He therefore took every opportunity to attempt to advance in rank, including sitting for and failing exams on no less than twenty-three occasions. In his desperation to achieve the goal of becoming an officer, Arnold Rimmer became unwittingly enmeshed in the nefarious schemes of others on board _Red Dwarf_—in particular, those of the first officer, Frank Todhunter, and of a group of men who delighted in making Mr Rimmer the target of their jokes."

As Kryten uttered the name 'Todhunter,' Rimmer turned absolutely white. "Objection!" he choked out before stumbling from the dock and being violently ill on the immaculate black-and-white floor of the courtroom. _Smeg!_ he thought. _Why did Kryten have to bring Todhunter up? He could only be talking about one thing..._

Lister ran over to Rimmer, who was on his knees with his head hanging down, making retching noises. Lister felt utterly useless—he couldn't even pat Rimmer on the back to let him know that he was concerned about him. He didn't know why Rimmer was so upset and so didn't know what to say to make him feel better. "Rimmer, man," he tried. "You OK?"

Kryten, meanwhile, had turned to the court. "My client is feeling rather unwell. Might he be allowed a few moments to regain his composure before the trial continues?"

The Justice Computer agreed to a five-minute break. Kryten walked over to Rimmer, who by now had managed to stop vomiting. Lister hovered uneasily by Rimmer's side, looking anxiously at Kryten as he approached.

"Kryten," Rimmer ground out from behind clenched teeth. "I order you to cease this defense."

"You heard me! I'd rather be convicted than have...all this...dragged up in court."

"Calm down, Rimmer. You know ya don't want to be stuck here for over nine thousand years. Let Kryten do his job." Lister didn't know what Kryten had uncovered, but he was certain that it was better to use it in Rimmer's defense than to let it remain hidden at the cost of his freedom.

Rimmer wasn't at all sure that he could bear the truth coming out. He remembered his dealings with Todhunter all too vividly, try as he might to repress those memories. He shuddered involuntarily as the images flooded into his mind.

* * *

It had started as yet another attempt to simp up to Todhunter in the hopes of gaining some good will that might come in handy on the road to becoming an officer. Rimmer had just about given up on the direct route of talking to the captain, and his efforts at passing examinations had yielded nothing except stress-related illnesses so far. So he had approached Todhunter one day as the first officer walked by on his way to the Drive Room.

"Mr. Todhunter, sir—I was wondering if I could ask for your valuable advice on the matter of becoming an officer," Rimmer began in a smarmy voice.

Todhunter sighed and rolled his eyes. "Rimmer, I don't have time for this..."

"Please, sir. Just a few minutes. I'm sure anything you might have to say—to me, or to the captain, perhaps—would be of inestimable value to my career. I'd be happy to follow any guidelines or advice you could give me."

Todhunter was about to end the conversation with an abrupt dismissal when an idea struck him. The only way to get rid of such a persistent person as Rimmer, he realized, was to appear to acquiesce in his plans. And Rimmer just might be of use to him, in a definitely nonofficial and nonsanctioned way. "Hmmm," Todhunter said, appearing to think things over. "Well, I suppose I _could_ help you a bit. But it would mean committing to doing as I say. And, of course, you'd need to keep our 'arrangement' strictly confidential. I don't want to be harassed by everyone on this ship who wants a promotion!"

"Yes, sir!" Rimmer agreed happily. "You have my word, sir! Complete and total confidentiality. You can count on me!"

"Good. I don't have any more time to spare at the moment, but come to my quarters at 10 tonight, after my shift, and we'll start strategizing." Todhunter smiled to himself as he thought of the "strategy sessions" he would be able to conduct.

"I'll be there, sir. Thank you, sir!" said Rimmer crisply, giving Todhunter a full-Rimmer salute and then marching off to his own quarters to dream about finally attaining at least one of his goals. _Father will have to accept me—or at least acknowledge me—if I become an officer, he mused. Maybe things could even start going right in my life._

* * *

Rimmer was at the door of Todhunter's quarters promptly at shift change at 10. Todhunter appeared from duty a few seconds later and escorted Rimmer into a room that was much grander than the utilitarian quarters Rimmer shared with Lister. The room was dazzlingly white and decorated with original oil paintings of sailing ships and historical Space Corps vehicles. There was only a single bunk-style bed in the room. The first officer, like the captain, did not have to share accommodations with anyone.

"Sit down, Rimmer," Todhunter said, indicating the chairs around a small table. "Do you want a drink?" He went over to a cabinet and pulled out a bottle of fine scotch. While there, he discreetly switched Holly's viewscreen to Privacy Mode to ensure that the holographic computer would not interrupt his evening's plans. He didn't worry about the black box recorder still being operational—it was only checked on rare occasions, such as when an emergency occurred, and he was confident that no one would ever view the recording being made of his current actions. It would be wiped along with all other nonessential records once _Red Dwarf_ finished its current mission.

"Er, no thanks," Rimmer replied uneasily. He didn't want to appear rude, but he wasn't very experienced with strong drink and was afraid that he might lose the benefit of Todhunter's advice if he accidentally got tipsy.

"You're sure?"

Rimmer nodded.

"Suit yourself. I hope you don't mind if I have one. It's been a long day," stated Todhunter, pouring himself a drink and sitting down across the table from Rimmer. "Well, let's see where things stand. I've already started on the first step of our arrangement: I've dropped a few words to the captain to indicate that you might be worthy of attention." Todhunter took a sip of scotch as he watched Rimmer, who was hanging on to his every word. _So far, so good,_ Todhunter thought. _He should be easy to manipulate._ "If all goes well, I hope to be able to finagle you an invitation to dine with the captain, myself, and some other officers in the near future."

Rimmer smiled a fake smile and began to thank Todhunter, who cut off his thanks with a dismissive gesture. "Of course, I can't promise that anything will come of the dinner, _if_ I even manage to get you invited, but it would be a good way for you to meet the captain in a nonwork setting and, hopefully, to impress him."

What Todhunter kept hidden from Rimmer was that the invitation was a certainty and that it actually meant nothing: The captain, acting under pressure from the human resources department of the Jupiter Mining Corporation, had decided to institute a monthly "meet the crew" dinner in order to "build teamwork" and "make all crew members—no matter how lowly—feel a part of the Corporation and its valuable work." Captain Hollister had delegated the task of choosing the monthly candidates to Todhunter.

"So," Todhunter continued, "we need to talk about your next step."

Rimmer nodded. "What do you want me to do?" he asked eagerly.

Todhunter smiled. "I want you to express your appreciation to me by doing exactly what I say. You did give your word, remember, and an officer is expected to be a man of his word."

Rimmer was rather confused about what Todhunter might mean, but he knew that he had given his word and that he was therefore bound to obey a superior officer. He tried to ignore a niggling doubt regarding Todhunter's intention. "Yes, sir," he agreed. "Of course, sir."

"Good." Todhunter downed the rest of his scotch and poured another one. "Then take off all your clothes and bend over the table."

Rimmer gaped at him, totally shocked. "B-but...," he stammered, aghast. _Oh smeg,_ thought Rimmer, his mind running a thousand kilometers a minute. _Is this a test of whether I keep my word? If so, I can't object—he'd think I wasn't officer-caliber material. But if I do what he asks..._ He shuddered to think of being used in that manner. _But I_ need _to get that promotion. And he_ did _talk to the captain already. He's kept his word, so I have no choice but to keep mine. And maybe it's only a test. Maybe he won't go through with it._ "Y-yes, sir," he managed to choke out.

Rimmer began to unfasten his tie with fingers that visibly trembled, although he tried to still them. He was hoping that a reprieve would be forthcoming now that he had physically indicated his willingness to obey orders. But no reprieve came. Rimmer moved on to his shirt buttons. Still no reprieve. Rimmer's stomach lurched.

Todhunter was enjoying himself. The scotch was creating a pleasantly warm feeling in his stomach, and the sight of Rimmer's obviously unwilling submission was creating the same sort of feeling lower down. Todhunter had a sadistic streak that he wasn't often able to indulge. After all, as first officer he had to maintain a respectable reputation. He was too concerned about the possibility of colleagues or underlings talking to the wrong people about his tastes or charging him with sexual harassment or some other petty accusation to allow himself to satisfy his sadistic side with the many willing women who fawned all over him. Rimmer, on the other hand, was an easy mark. Todhunter knew he had nothing to fear from Rimmer—the man's desire for promotion, plus his chronic spinelessness, would keep Rimmer silent about whatever he chose to do to him. The possibilities were endless, and Todhunter was determined to get the maximum enjoyment out of the situation.

Rimmer took off his shirt, then hesitated. His face flamed red, and his gaze was riveted to the floor. Todhunter chuckled happily to himself, but out loud merely said, in a neutral tone, "Keep going." Rimmer complied, standing up to undo his belt buckle. He turned away from Todhunter, too ashamed to look at the first officer or to have him see his increasing fear, which was causing his nostrils to twitch and his heart to pound loudly in his ears. All too soon, in Rimmer's opinion, he was completely naked and vulnerable. He was making a valiant effort to keep his knees from knocking, but it wasn't a total success.

Todhunter gulped down some more scotch and stood up, stretching languidly. "Good," he said to Rimmer. "I see that you're very obedient. That's a definite point in your favor and bodes well for that promotion. But there's one instruction you seem to have forgotten: I told you to bend over the table."

Rimmer swallowed the bile that was rising in his throat and complied with Todhunter's command, resting the side of his face on the table and stretching his arms flat out in front of him. His eyes were squeezed tightly shut.

Todhunter stripped off his own clothes in a hurry, turned on by Rimmer's submissive behavior and the thought of being able to let loose all of his pent-up aggression. Moving quickly, Todhunter grabbed Rimmer's wrists and imprisoned them in a firm grasp, simultaneously trapping Rimmer against the table with the weight of his body. A moment later, he thrust into Rimmer without any preparation or lubrication.

Rimmer was all too familiar with pain, having been on the receiving end of many assorted beatings and tortures bestowed on him by his father, brothers, and classmates throughout his childhood, but this pain was of a different, more personal kind. It threatened to tear his mind apart as much as his body. He desperately bit his lower lip in an effort to avoid making any noise. He knew from bitter experience that bullies were only encouraged to greater extremes by a victim's cries and struggles. As if to confirm this insight, Todhunter leaned over to whisper harshly in Rimmer's ear, "Go ahead and scream all you want. This room is perfectly soundproof."

Rimmer tried his best to hold in the sounds of pain, but the agony was too great. He moaned and let out a half-sob. "Oh, yeah," Todhunter crooned in his ear as he kept thrusting violently into him. "That's it."

Rimmer bit down on his lip again. Involuntary tears of pain and shame were silently beginning to run down his face. _Hang on,_ he thought to himself. _It can't last much longer. Just hang on. You'll get through this.... Think about how good it will feel to finally get those officer's pips._

Todhunter was rapidly reaching the point of no return. He sank his teeth into the pale skin of Rimmer's right shoulder and bit down heavily, drawing blood. Rimmer gasped at the unexpected added violence. Todhunter gave a few more deep thrusts and then collapsed on Rimmer's back with an incoherent yell of delight. A long moment passed before he sighed and rolled off Rimmer.

Rimmer tried to remain standing, but his knees chose that moment to give out, and he fell in a heap to the floor. He wanted to curl up into a little ball and die, but unfortunately that wasn't Todhunter nudged him in the ribs with a bare foot. "Get up, Rimmer. I need my rest before I go back on duty, and you can't stay here all night. It would look bad in your personnel file." Rimmer shuddered and groaned softly, holding his arms clenched tightly over his midriff, but made no other move. Todhunter kicked him a bit harder. "Come on, Rimmer. Show some initiative. Let's move it!" With an effort of will, Rimmer slowly managed to get to his knees. He groped on the floor, seeking his uniform.

Todhunter dropped a bundle of clothes in front of Rimmer's face. "Here you go. Now remember, I'll be talking to the captain tomorrow to finalize those dinner arrangements, so keep an eye out for an invitation—and keep your mouth shut about this evening."

Rimmer nodded. He had absolutely no desire to tell anyone what had happened—he would rather have died then have his humiliation become public knowledge. This, of course, was exactly the type of response Todhunter was counting on.

Todhunter moved toward the bathroom, intending to take a relaxing shower. "Make sure the door's shut when you leave," he called to Rimmer over his shoulder. Rimmer gritted his teeth and began the painful task of getting dressed, first using his pocket handkerchief to try to sop up some of the blood that was trickling down his back and thighs. It was soon saturated, so he pulled on his clothes and hoped against hope that he'd be able to make it to his quarters before the blood stained his uniform and before he passed out.

Rimmer managed to reach his quarters without running into anybody, which was fortunate since he frequently had to stop and brace himself against the corridor wall, gasping from the pain caused by moving. His luck held once he entered his room—Lister was out, probably drinking with his buddies. That meant he could get cleaned up and into bed without having to make up excuses to explain his obvious distress. Rimmer sighed and went about his tasks slowly, trying not to think about what had just happened.

* * *

When his alarm went off the next morning, Rimmer woke up stiff and in pain. The effect of the handful of aspirins he had taken last night had definitely worn off, if they could ever have been said to have been effective. He tried to get up and get moving, only to feel a lancing pain in his lower abdomen. The soft moan that the movement involuntarily wrung from his lips caught Lister's attention, who had been trying to ignore the alarm and get a few more moments of sleep. He hung his head over the edge of his bunk. "Rimmer? You all right? Don't tell me you have a hangover too."

Rimmer half-rolled over to look up at Lister, jarring his injuries again and causing him to go slightly paler than usual. "Of course I don't have a hangover, you git," he snapped. "I think I have a touch of flu or something. You'll have to work the shift without me—I think I'll call in sick."

Lister shrugged and climbed out of bed. "Well, you definitely don't look good, mate. You could audition for the role of Count Dracula—you'd be a shoo-in." Lister grinned and went about getting ready for work. He was quite happy that it would be a Rimmer-less shift.

* * *

When Lister returned to his quarters at the end of his shift, Rimmer was still lying in bed. "Hey," greeted Lister. "Feelin' any better?"

"A bit," said Rimmer. "Not that I'd expect you to care."

"I don't," agreed Lister cheekily. "I have somethin' for ya, though. Todhunter gave it to me to hand-deliver to you."

"Really?" queried Rimmer, sitting up abruptly. He bit his lip to hold back the sound of discomfort that almost escaped him. "Let me see it!" _This has to be it,_ he told himself. _The invitation that Todhunter promised. So last night was worth it._

Lister fluttered the envelope in the air just out of Rimmer's reach. "Come on, you goit!" Rimmer yelled, getting angry. "That's my property and I order you to hand it over!"

"Yes sir, Mr. Smeghead, sir!" chortled Lister, performing a parody of the Rimmer salute and throwing the envelope onto Rimmer's bunk.

Rimmer snatched it up and tore it open. _Yes!_ he thought as he rapidly skimmed its contents. _I'm on my way!_ But his joy at the invitation to dinner with the captain and other top officers for the night of November 25 was dampened by the handwritten note from Todhunter at the bottom: "I'll expect to conduct another strategy session with you after the dinner to plan the next move toward your promotion. Be at my quarters at 10:30 PM." _Damn! I thought last night was all the payment that would be required!_

"Good news?" Lister asked.

Rimmer looked up from the invitation and nodded, his lip curling up in a sneer in an effort to hide from Lister his mixed feelings about what he had just read. "I'm on my way up, up, up, miladdio! Soon I'll be free of your slobby presence and awful guitar playing."

"Yeah, right," Lister scoffed. "And I'll be the king of England."

* * *

November 25 was only a week away, but the time seemed to drag endlessly for Rimmer. He was worried about making a good impression on the captain, and even more worried about his appointment with Todhunter after the dinner. He attempted to throw himself into making a revision schedule for the next engineering exam, but even the satisfaction of dividing up the days into neat periods of precisely scheduled, color-coded activities could not totally take his mind off his anxiety.

At last the fateful day arrived. Rimmer put on his dress uniform for the dinner, taking great care that every aspect of his appearance proclaimed his worthiness to become an officer. Surely the captain would see that he was wasted on Z Shift. This dinner would be his way out of a dead-end career and dead-end life. Once he became an officer, girlfriends and other good things were sure to follow. Rimmer made one last check on his appearance in the mirror, took a deep breath, and went to face his future.

* * *

The dinner had gone splendidly, in Rimmer's opinion. He had been called "Arnold" and treated as an equal, and his work had been praised as being of importance to the Jupiter Mining Corporation. Even better, he had managed to join in the laughter of his superiors, which was for once directed toward someone other than himself—namely, the stupid chef who had served his soup cold. He had drunk a few glasses of wine at dinner to help himself relax, and he found that although he still wasn't looking forward to visiting Todhunter later that night, he at least felt that he had gained something valuable from the arrangement. He could put up with Todhunter for one more evening if it meant he could escape from being a lowly second technician.

At precisely 10:30, Rimmer knocked on the door of Todhunter's quarters. The door slid open and he entered. Todhunter was lounging in an overstuffed chair, drinking scotch and wearing just a dark crimson dressing gown. "Ah, Rimmer. Come in and sit down," Todhunter said, gesturing to the straight-backed chairs near the table. "Relax. Have a drink if you want."

Rimmer sat down and politely declined the drink. He shifted nervously in the chair, anxious to get whatever would happen over with so he could concentrate on the positive aspects of the day and bury this part of it in the deepest recesses of his brain.

"What did you think of the dinner?" queried Todhunter.

"Oh, it was quite marvelous," gushed Rimmer. "It was a shame about that gazpacho soup, though."

"Hmmm," said Todhunter. "Yes...Well, the dinner has raised some important issues that we need to address. But first, why don't you get undressed so things are a little less formal for our discussion?"

Rimmer complied, although he hated himself for doing so.

"Now," Todhunter continued, "go stand in front of my bunk, with your face toward the wall." Once again, Rimmer obeyed.

Todhunter got up from his chair and stood behind Rimmer. "Now put your arms up, as if you were surrendering, and place your palms against the cabinet." Reluctantly, Rimmer did so. Unlike in his own quarters, the space over Todhunter's bunk consisted mostly of storage space set into the bulkhead. As he raised his arms, he lifted his gaze to the cabinet and caught a glimpse of something metallic. Before he could figure out what was going on, Todhunter had grabbed his left wrist and snapped a handcuff around it. Rimmer tried to pull away, confused, but Todhunter grabbed his other wrist and secured it as well. Rimmer looked up and saw that the handcuffs were attached by fairly substantial metal chains to two rings driven into the bulkhead above the cabinet. He hadn't noticed them before, but then again, they were painted to match the color of the wall. Rimmer instinctively pulled on the handcuffs to test whether there was any chance of pulling the rings out of the wall. Todhunter noticed this reaction and laughed. "There's no escape," he said in Rimmer's ear in a husky whisper. "You can struggle all you like, though."

Todhunter then moved away from Rimmer, out of his line of vision. Rimmer tried to calm the beating of his heart and to prepare himself for being violated yet again. He jumped nervously when he heard Todhunter's voice a few feet behind him.

"I'm afraid the dinner did not go as well as I had hoped," Todhunter said. Rimmer's mind was racing. What could he possibly mean? Then he heard a strange sound, sort of a cross between a fluorescent light warming up and a bug zapper at work. The next moment, his body exploded in white-hot pain. He cried out involuntarily, causing Todhunter to grin.

"You see," said Todhunter in a calm, teacher-like tone of voice, "gazpacho soup is meant to be served cold." He emphasized the word "meant" with a second application of the holo-whip. The whip was one of Todhunter's treasured possessions. It was extremely painful to both humans and holograms, and it had the added advantage of leaving no telltale lash marks. It would cause a human victim's skin to turn into a bloody pulp if used long and hard enough, but the result looked more like a burn or an abrasion injury than the type of scarring caused by regular whips and thus was easier to explain away, if necessary.

Rimmer writhed in both physical and mental agony. _The soup was_ supposed _to be cold?! Then the captain and the others weren't laughing_ with _me—they were laughing_ at _me!_ His heart sank.

Todhunter continued his lecture, accompanying his words with further lashes of the whip. "Your faux pas means that we're back to square one regarding the prospects for your promotion. We'll both have to work twice as hard to overcome this handicap and make the captain see you in a more positive light."

The blows from the holo-whip were falling faster now. The skin on Rimmer's back was becoming raw and exceedingly sensitive, making each blow seem more painful than the previous one. A scream tore from Rimmer's throat. He pulled violently against his fetters in an attempt to get away from the merciless lashing, but succeeded only in making his wrists raw and bloody as well.

Todhunter was enjoying himself immensely. He previously had only been able to satisfy this part of himself with rent boys and with furtive encounters in S&amp;M clubs in the seedier districts of spaceports. It was so much better when he could have complete control over both his partner and his environment. He felt full of giddy power: He had Rimmer at his complete mercy, physically and psychologically, and it felt wonderful. Rimmer's screams were music to his ears, making him grow harder and to hit harder in a frenzy of lust and malice.

Rimmer thought that he would pass out from the pain. His vision went black around the edges, and Todhunter's voice seemed to be coming from a great distance as he said something about being willing to continue helping Rimmer with his career. Rimmer could no longer concentrate on Todhunter's words—they were just garbled sounds in a nightmare that seemed like it would never end. Just when Rimmer thought he might be lucky enough to finally reach the safe haven of unconsciousness, the whipping stopped.

Before Rimmer could gather himself together mentally in preparation for what he knew was coming, Todhunter was upon him. Rimmer was glad he had had the foresight to apply Vaseline to himself as a small protective measure against Todhunter's violence. Even with this precaution, the pain was considerable. Todhunter forced himself into Rimmer with as powerful a thrust as he could, intending to inflict the maximum amount of pain and humiliation. Rimmer screamed as Todhunter grabbed him around the waist and rested his weight on Rimmer's abused back while he continued pounding into him. Finally, mercifully, the darkness overtook Rimmer and he slumped limply in the chains, unconscious.

* * *

Rimmer regained consciousness to find himself naked on the floor of Todhunter's quarters, with his clothes neatly piled next to him. Slowly, awareness of his situation came back to him. He lifted his head off the floor and began trying to push himself onto his knees in preparation for making his escape. As he was doing so, Todhunter, who was again wrapped in his dressing gown and lounging in the armchair, spoke to him: "It's really a pity about the dinner. As I said earlier, we'll both have to work harder now, but I'm fully committed to getting you that promotion. I assume that you will continue to honor your commitment as well." His tone of voice indicated that this was not a question, but an order, so Rimmer nodded. He would have agreed to anything at that moment just so he could get out of that room and hide himself away in his quarters.

"Good," Todhunter said. "Here—use this on your back. It should help." He tossed a tube of antibiotic ointment in Rimmer's general direction and got up to head for the shower. "I'll let you know of any developments regarding your career. Oh, and make sure the door is locked behind you when you leave. Ta!"

* * *

Rimmer regarded the night of November 25 as one of the worst in his life, which was certainly saying something since his life had never been happy. In the weeks that followed, Rimmer was constantly on edge, never knowing when Todhunter would call on him for another payment for the promotion that never quite seemed to materialize. He found it difficult to concentrate on revising for the upcoming engineering exam, and all too easy to take out his anxieties and frustrations on Lister, the only person over whom he had authority (such as it was).

Todhunter exercised the option to "help" Rimmer with his career many times during the month of December. On each occasion, the pattern was similar: He would recount to Rimmer the steps he had taken on Rimmer's behalf (which conveniently could never be verified) and then use Rimmer for his pleasure by inflicting pain on him in various new and exciting ways. These sessions usually ended up with Rimmer unconscious or barely conscious. As was Rimmer's wont, however, he did his best to lie to himself about what was happening, choosing to ignore the fact that he was being brutalized and instead excusing Todhunter's behavior as being justified by the fact that he was a superior officer who deserved a little harmless recreation in return for helping out such a hopeless person as himself.

* * *

Three million or so years later, Rimmer still could not bear to think about what had happened. His efforts to stop Kryten from defending him had been useless, however. Lister had overruled him, insisting that the trial proceed. Rimmer could never talk Lister out of a course of action once Lister had made up his mind, so he gave in to the inevitable and let the trial continue.

Kryten requested that a hologramatic chair be provided for Rimmer so that he could sit during the proceedings, since he still was obviously pale and shaky. The Justice Computer complied, and Kryten began presenting his case.

"As I stated previously," Kryten told the court, "my client became caught in a web woven by the first officer, Frank Todhunter, as you can see from this video recording made by the computer on board the _Red Dwarf_." A monitor set up in the courtroom began showing the fateful conversation in which Todhunter had first suggested that he would help Rimmer get a promotion in return for promising to do as he ordered. Rimmer buried his head in his hands and wished the floor would open up and swallow him.

Lister watched the scene on the monitor with a growing sense of anger. It was obvious to him how Todhunter had manipulated Rimmer, and he had a sick feeling that he knew what type of payment had been exacted from Rimmer. He glanced over at the hologram with concern. Rimmer's face was hidden, but Lister could tell from the hologram's body language that these revelations were an ordeal for him.

"First Officer Todhunter then proceeded to pretend to help my client, but in fact was using him for his own purposes, as can be seen from the confidential black box recordings that are being uploaded directly to you."

Rimmer gave a small sigh of relief as he realized that Kryten was not intending to show the recordings in front of Lister and the Cat. It was bad enough that Kryten must have seen them, but he couldn't bear to think of Lister seeing them and laughing at his gullibility and lack of backbone.

"At some point, Mr. Todhunter must have gotten worried that he had gone too far or that Mr. Rimmer was on the verge of reporting his actions to the captain, because he decided to take drastic action to keep Mr. Rimmer quiet forever."

Rimmer's head jerked up at Kryten's words. _Is he suggesting that Todhunter wanted to_ murder _me? Why? I would never have had the courage to report him!_ He tried to think of what might have made Todhunter worried enough to contemplate murder. With a sinking stomach, he thought of an encounter he had had with Todhunter the day before he failed the engineering exam yet again and Lister had been placed in stasis. He had been exceedingly nervous when Todhunter had approached him and Lister as they were working. He was worried that Todhunter might suggest yet another "session," and he had barely had time to recover from the last one. Luckily, it turned out that Todhunter just wanted to know why he had filed so many complaints against Lister. Relieved about being temporarily reprieved and nervous about being in Todhunter's presence, he had babbled on concerning Lister's insubordinate behavior until both Lister and Todhunter had called him a smeghead. The careless insult—in front of a subordinate no less—from the man who was making his life hell had caused his temper to flare and he had yelled after Todhunter as he was walking away. He vaguely remembered calling Todhunter names and saying something along the lines of Todhunter's career being over. He hadn't meant for Todhunter to hear his words—they were just a way to try to save face in front of Lister and to make himself feel better. He would never have followed up on the empty threat.

Kryten's voice jolted Rimmer back to the present. He was saying something about an opportunity arising that Todhunter had taken advantage of, and was directing the court's attention to the monitor yet again. Rimmer watched along with the others in the courtroom.

The monitor showed Todhunter at his station in the Drive Room. The time and date stamp on the recording indicated that it was the morning of January 6. Holly appeared on the viewscreen in front of Todhunter. "Frank, there's a problem with the drive plate in White Corridor 159 of Level 313. It's come loose and needs to be repaired promptly. My readings indicate that there is a fairly high level of cadmium II radiation due to the leak, so any personnel who need to work in the immediate area for more than a few minutes should wear full hazmat gear for protection. I've already locked the area to keep out unauthorized personnel."

"Thanks, Holly. I'll send someone down right away," Todhunter said. He sat for a moment, lost in thought, and then left the Drive Room.

The monitor went black as Kryten continued his narrative: "First Officer Todhunter sought out Second Technician Rimmer and ordered him to repair the drive plate, as you will see in the next black box recording. Note, however, that he neglected to inform Mr. Rimmer of the radiation leak and of the need to wear protective gear."

The monitor flared to life again, this time showing Todhunter approaching Rimmer in a corridor as he was working, alone, on yet another vending machine. Rimmer jumped to his feet and saluted when Todhunter addressed him. Lister noticed that Rimmer looked pale, exhausted, and nervous in the recording. "Ah, Rimmer," Todhunter said in a hearty voice. "Good news: I've persuaded the captain to expand your duties as a sort of trial run for possible promotion. Your first job, which I want you to tackle right away, is to repair the drive plate in White Corridor 159, Level 313. Here's the clearance code you'll need to get access to the area." Todhunter handed Rimmer a rectangular piece of plastic as he spoke. "Take your time and make sure you do a thorough job—it may well change your life. Report to me when you're finished, and I'll inspect your work. Dismissed." A rather wobbly smile had been breaking out on Rimmer's haggard face as Todhunter talked. He saluted Todhunter smartly and began happily humming to himself as he gathered his tools together to head toward his doom. The monitor went black again as the recording ended.

Lister was outraged at what he had just seen. It was murder, pure and simple. He knew that Rimmer would have been so concerned about doing a good job that he would have spent far longer on the repair than anyone else on the ship, thus ensuring that he received a lethal dose of cadmium radiation that would finish him off within days. He felt an unexpected sympathy for Rimmer, especially knowing how happy Rimmer must have felt at finally being given an important job. If Todhunter had been alive and in that courtroom, Lister thought he would have gladly strangled him. He glanced over at Rimmer again, who looked totally gobsmacked—almost in shock.

Kryten continued with his presentation: "First Officer Todhunter obviously planned on eliminating the threat my client represented to his career by exposing him to a powerful dose of radiation. One might argue that Mr. Rimmer was still the person responsible for fixing the drive plate improperly and that the charges against him are therefore still valid. However, it is at this point that a totally unrelated conspiracy against Arnold J. Rimmer interacted with Mr. Todhunter's scheme in a fatal manner—fatal, that is, to every crewmember on board _Red Dwarf_ except David Lister.

"As you will see from the next black box recording, a cabal of men who despised my client had decided to play what they perceived as a practical joke on him in order to gain a measure of revenge. This 'joke' involved tampering with my client's tools so that they gave erroneous readings."

The monitor showed four men sitting around a typical crew room on _Red Dwarf_; the date and time stamp indicated it was January 5. Lister did a double-take as he saw who the men were: Petersen, Selby, Chen, and a junior engineering officer named Ashby, who often had hung out with them. Before he became an officer, Ashby had been assigned to Z Shift under Rimmer, and he often regaled the group with stories of Rimmer's stupidity and commiserated with Lister regarding his situation.

Ashby had a small black box in his hands, which he was making precise adjustments to.

"You're sure this will work?" asked Petersen skeptically.

"Oh, yeah. No problem," replied Ashby. "I told Rimmer that this little gadget is a 'Maintenance Mate' that checks your work and tells you if you did anything wrong. He can't wait to buy it from me—I'll be making the final deal tonight, in fact."

"So what does it _really_ do?" said Selby.

"Nothing, actually—most of it is colored lights and flim-flam. But it has a computer that's programmed to always say that the job it's examining was done perfectly. Also, it inverts any type of sensor reading so that it shows up as the opposite of what it is in reality."

Petersen grinned. "Oh, yeah—this will definitely get that stupid git in hot water, especially with all the other tools we 'fixed' for him. I can't wait to see him hauled before the captain for something. I definitely want to be there when the shit hits the fan! 'Oh, Captain Hollister, sir,'" he mimicked in a high, silly voice, "'I don't know what could possibly have gone wrong.'" He accompanied this speech with a parody of the Rimmer salute.

Chen laughed loudly. "Serves him right for putting Lister on report so often and for ratting him out about that cat."

Ashby finished his adjustments and handed the box around to the group to admire his handiwork. "I just wonder how long it'll take that smeghead to figure out what's going on."

"My bet—never!" Selby said. "He's too damn stupid to notice." Everyone laughed and agreed.

The monitor went black at that point, as Kryten continued his case. "Arnold J. Rimmer _did_ purchase the so-called Maintenance Mate that evening, as the recording uploaded to your mainframe confirms. Many other tools in Mr. Rimmer's possession were tampered with as well, as the evidence accompanying the uploaded recordings shows. Therefore, when my client performed the repair on the drive plate as he was ordered to do by Mr. Todhunter, he was working with rigged and faulty tools. There is thus no way to know if Mr. Rimmer could have completed the repair properly—he was never given the chance. He certainly was diligent about doing his job: He spent half an hour on a job that should have taken five minutes or so. He then reported to Mr. Todhunter, who did not bother to check the work personally, as you can see from the uploaded recordings. Instead, Todhunter went off duty as usual and went to one of the ship's bars.

"A few hours later, the ship's computer noticed that the condition of the drive plate had worsened, and reported this directly to the captain. Captain Hollister noted that the work completion form had been signed by Mr. Rimmer, so he ordered my client to report to the Drive Room immediately. The end result of the two plots against Mr. Rimmer was as you can see," finished Kryten, pointing to the monitor, which was now showing the same scene Lister had viewed a few years ago on Rimmer's death tape.

This time around, though, Lister's feelings were radically different. The injustice of Rimmer taking full responsibility for something totally out of his control angered him. He also felt respect for Rimmer because he hadn't tried to weasel out of the situation. In the last moments of his life, Rimmer had acted as "a man of honor," to use his own terms, which was more than Lister could say for his old mates and Todhunter. Lister felt disgusted with them and with himself—if he hadn't been in stasis, there was a good probability that he would have gone along with the practical joke his pals had cooked up. What made it even worse was that he knew Rimmer hadn't reported the cat's presence—it was his own mistake that had given the game away. He had simply forgotten that there was a picture of himself and the cat on that particular roll of film. But his friends had obviously chosen to blame Rimmer and to take revenge.

When the recording on the monitor reached the point of Rimmer's death, Lister turned away. He couldn't watch it again, not now that he knew the truth. Lister looked toward Rimmer to see how he was faring. The answer would have to be "not well," he thought—the hologram's face was deathly white, and he looked ready to keel over at any minute.

The recording ended, and Kryten began his closing argument: "Arnold J. Rimmer did his best to perform the duties he was assigned. However, the obstacles he faced regarding the repair of the drive plate were overwhelming. His failure to secure the drive plate was therefore not willful negligence, but a result of a confluence of circumstances. My client is not guilty of murder, although out of a sense of responsibility he took on the burden of guilt that was detected by your mind probe. There was indeed a crime committed on _Red Dwarf_, but my client was a victim, not the perpetrator. In the words of William Shakespeare, one of Earth's great poets, Arnold J. Rimmer is "a man more sinned against than sinning." Thank you." Kryten sat down and waited along with the others for the verdict.

The Justice Computer intoned, "The defendant will stand for the verdict."

Rimmer stood up, rather shakily, but he held his head up high and stood at attention once he was on his feet. He gazed straight ahead, deliberately avoiding looking at any of his crewmates.

"In view of the eloquent defense presented by your counsel, together with the reams of material evidence he submitted via computer, this court accepts that in this case the mind probe is not an adequate assessment of guilt. We find the defendant not guilty. You may therefore go free."

Rimmer nodded curtly and turned to leave the dock. Lister hurried over to him to offer moral support even if he couldn't provide any physical support. Lister wanted to get back to _Red Dwarf_ and get Rimmer good and drunk in the hope that he would be able to release some of the pain and guilt that must have been eating at his mind for so long. Rimmer, however, passed by him without seeming to notice his presence and strode rapidly toward _Starbug_. Rimmer's eyes seemed to be gazing into the past rather than seeing the present surroundings.

Unfortunately for Lister's plans, there was a crazed simulant waiting for them in _Starbug_. By the time they had dealt with the simulant, Rimmer had recovered to the point where all his defenses were back up.

"C'mon, man, let's go to the Copacabana and get wasted," Lister cajoled him once they were back on the _Red Dwarf_.

"No thanks, Lister," replied Rimmer in a dull tone of voice.

"C'mon—you've gotta need a drink after a day like today. I know I do!" Lister persisted.

"You go on, then," Rimmer replied. "I have some work I need to do." This wasn't true, but Rimmer felt uneasy with the situation. Part of him wanted to go with Lister and get drunk, and maybe even to talk about some things with him—although not about Todhunter's "strategy sessions." Another part was afraid of revealing his vulnerability to Lister. He'd been hurt too often in the past to fully trust anyone, even someone he would have liked to call a friend. _But he's not your friend,_ the voice inside him whispered. _He's made that perfectly clear. You don't_ have _any friends because you're fundamentally unlikable. So stop hoping for something that you can never have._

The bitter inner voice won. Rimmer turned and walked away from Lister, who watched him go with a heavy heart.


End file.
